


To Burn

by RosYourBoat



Series: Tender and Easily Broken [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Rape Recovery, T'hy'la
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:19:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosYourBoat/pseuds/RosYourBoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Tender and Easily Broken," both Jim and Spock are recovering. However, while Jim seems to be making slow progress, Spock himself seems to be falling gravely ill. </p><p>This fic is unfinished, and will remain so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my recent excavation and expunction of all of my old fics from my hard drive to an online form, where they can be held as an indelible and inescapable memento of my past obsessions. These fics are all unbeta'd and heretofore unseen by anyone but me. I hope someone else feels some of the enjoyment I received from writing them.
> 
> "To Burn" was written in February of 2010, and is unfinished.

Kirk sat sprawled out in his command chair, swiveling it idly side to side with the toe of his boot as he stared out of the viewing screen at the endless expanse of blackness. His head rested on the support of an arm propped against the arm of the chair and he was absently manipulating his full bottom lip with his fingers in thought. They had been continuing their sector mapping after their latest mission and the boredom of empty space was just starting to get to him.

He noticed that Spock had straightened from his customary position over the sensors at the science station and was watching him. He perked up a little and let a smile curve his lips, reaching out with his mind to give their link a warm, happy caress. He received an equally affectionate swell in return although Spock made no outward sign of their brief exchange except for a raised eyebrow before he faced his station again. His proper First Officer wouldn’t allow any further acknowledgement of their relationship while in public, much less on the bridge. When they were alone in their quarters, however…

Feeling suddenly energetic, Kirk sprang up from his seat and paced around the bridge once, surveying his crew with pride. He stopped briefly at the science station and bent over Spock’s shoulder, running a daring hand lightly down the Vulcan’s back out of sight as he whispered a few words. The shiver he got in response made his body heat with arousal and he stepped away reluctantly.

“Mr. Spock, you have the conn,” he said over his shoulder as he entered the turbolift. He finally let the smile that he had been holding back slip over his face and he leaned against the wall of the lift. It had been two months since he and Spock had finally admitted the full extent of their feelings to each other. Their physical relationship hadn’t really changed much in the interim, except for the few kisses they had shared, but their mental closeness and affection had grown to a deep, abiding connection. It wasn’t that they didn’t want each other (far from it, in Kirk’s mind), but they were taking it slow after Kirk’s torture and rape on Kohlr.

Kirk frowned slightly at the thought and the bright lights in the turbolift seemed to flicker and dim. He pushed the thought from his mind and tried to focus on the dinner he had just asked Spock to come to after shift in his quarters. The turbolift suddenly slowed to a stop at one of the floors and the door slid open. A crewman he didn’t recognize entered and saluted before standing next to him. He nodded and was just starting to get lost in his thoughts again when the impact of a hard, heavy body crushed him against the wall. His arms were grabbed in a tight hold.

Kirk immediately began struggling, but the other man was much stronger than a normal human. His hands were thicker, too, and tipped with blunt claws instead of fingernails. A deep fear spread through his stomach, as if ice had been dropped down his throat, and he struggled harder. The Kohlran slammed him against the wall and then his clothes had disappeared and chains wrapped around his limbs until he couldn’t move anymore and all he could do was cry out in panic and anger.

His legs were kicked apart and a harsh, hot breath was on the back of his neck as the humanoid rutted against him from behind. He felt the blunt head of a penis nudging up against his clenched hole, seeking and probing like a blind worm, and he screeched in pain when it plunged inside, stretching him wide around the thick shaft and splitting him open. Blood lubricated the dry, unforgiving thrusts and he whimpered and cried with each one. He writhed against the cold metal wall and bit his lip, trying to keep silent because he couldn’t give them the satisfaction but his mind cried out despite himself.

“ _Spock! Oh God, not again! Spock, where are you?”_

It was too much. He screamed into consciousness, his throat raw and his skin damp with clammy sweat as he threw himself into a sitting position. His blankets pooled around his bare waist and his quarters were dark. He instantly recognized that he had been dreaming. Again.

He buried his face in his hands, trying to still his shaking body as he greedily panted for air past his fear and adrenaline. He cursed under his breath. He took a deep breath. Then another one. He looked up and jumped when he saw the tall, thin silhouette standing next to the bed.

“Oh God,” he said weakly, reaching out in an unconscious plea. “Spock.”

Spock instantly came closer, sliding onto the bed next to him. “ _T’hy’la_. You had another nightmare.”

Kirk could only nod. He hated the nightmares. During the actual event he hadn’t screamed or cried and yet at least three times a week he would wake up in the middle of the night doing either. He leaned toward his friend in the darkness, drawn to the comforting heat like a cat, until his head lay on Spock’s shoulder. Spock rested a hand on his hair in response and stroked softly.

“I’m here now; I heard you call for me. I will always find you if it is possible.” They sat in silence for several minutes until Kirk started nodding off. “You must sleep. May I stay with you?”

In answer, Kirk eased back onto his mussed covers, pulling the Vulcan down with him. He arranged them on their sides facing each other and they stared at each other in the darkness. Their minds met and overlapped, providing a constant stream of thought and emotion between them, and Kirk felt the last of his fear slip away. Finally, Kirk reached up to press a short, chaste kiss of gratefulness next to Spock’s mouth before he rested his head on the Vulcan’s chest and wrapped his arms around his waist like a great big teddy bear. Only then could he sleep.

When he woke, he couldn’t immediately remember who he was. His and Spock’s thoughts were so closely intertwined that he felt flashes of his human-cool skin instead of Vulcan-hot skin and his thoughts were half in Vulcan and half in Standard. Eventually, as he came back to himself, he was able to distinguish himself from Spock and he settled comfortably into his own mind. He kept their link flung wide open, however.

Spock was spooned up against his back, his arm wrapped around his waist and his hot hand splayed against his belly. Kirk drifted in a pleasurable haze, cataloging the sensation in his memory for some time before he sensed Spock waking. The hand against his stomach flexed and he caught it with his own hand to keep it pressed against his skin. He wriggled a little and stretched lithely, pressing back against the Vulcan’s hard body. Pleasure spiraled lazily through him. He felt Spock’s response—the arm tightening around him and bringing him closer against his body. Kirk’s half-hard cock began taking more interest in the proceedings.

Kirk made a sound—a pleased grunt or mumble—and then Spock was pulling away, just as he always did when things were venturing into sensual territory. Kirk bit back a frustrated protest, feeling Spock’s reluctance and love and patience, and knew that only time would convince the Vulcan that Kirk didn’t fear him or anything they could do together.

Just as they had several times a week in the past two months, they soon got up and retreated to their own quarters to prepare for the day in silence. With the link open between them, they didn’t need words. They met again in the shared bathroom, taking turns with the shower and sink in their typical morning ablutions. Even before their relationship had deepened they had established an easy familiarity in their morning routine and it was only this familiarity that made Kirk notice when something was different.

After Spock had showered and stepped into his trousers, he stumbled a little after he had pulled them up and fastened them over his black briefs. It was barely noticeable—little more than a graceful sway as he put a hand out to steady himself on the wall—but Kirk had made it a point to watch Spock dress at every opportunity (it was nearly as erotic as him undressing, he decided) and he had seen it. He attributed it to the little dizzy spells everyone got when they stood up too fast.

It was such a little thing.

Four nights later, as they lay on Kirk’s bed in his dim quarters, he ran his hand up Spock’s arm and paused at the dark green bruise he found on his bicep. “What’s this?” he had asked, pressing a kiss to the spot. Spock said that he had gotten it while helping Scotty recalibrate the ship’s coolant systems in the Jeffries tubes and then he captured his lips in a surprisingly deep kiss. Kirk would have shrugged it off if he hadn’t recognized Spock’s carefully nonchalant change of topic.

A week after that, during their work-out session, Kirk managed to throw Spock using a Vulcan technique that Spock had been trying to teach him. Kirk had seen him falter but it had been too late to stop and the Vulcan was on the floor the next second, looking uncharacteristically confused beneath his usual mask. Kirk had helped him up, deeply concerned, but the Vulcan had brushed off his apologies and his worry. He had reluctantly dropped it.

He thought about mentioning it to Bones, but he was reluctant to set the paranoid doctor on Spock when it didn’t appear to be anything serious. In the meantime, he kept his eye on Spock whenever he thought the Vulcan wasn’t looking. They were heading to the nearest starbase to refill their fuel after mapping the latest cluster of stars on the edge of Federation space when Kirk received a transmission from Starfleet.

“On screen, if you would, Lieutenant,” Kirk said, feeling a flash of relief at the prospect of an interesting development. Uhura obliged and Admiral Nogura’s solemn countenance filled the bridge screen.

“Admiral,” Kirk said with a respectful nod. Nogura returned it shortly.

“Captain Kirk, we have received your report outlining the results of your mapping and your intention to return to Starbase 8 for refueling. Your new orders are to travel directly to Vulcan after refueling instead of returning to the edge of Federation space.”

Kirk blinked, sensing more than seeing Spock’s sudden, intense attention. “I see. And what are we to do at Vulcan?”

“The Vulcan Council has requested the aid of a Starfleet cruiser with accomplished specialists in xenosociology and xenolinguistics, as well as the weapons capability to prevent potentially hostile ships from entering the Vulcan atmosphere. You’re it.”

“That’s quite a specific list, and I’ll admit that is sounds… worrisome. What’s this all about?”

“It appears that a group of hostile humanoids have landed a ship on Vulcan and set up camp outside one of the larger cities. They appear to be renegades of some sort, but none of the Vulcans have been able to ascertain where they are from or their intentions. It is nothing you have concern yourself with personally, Captain, but you will be placed in defensive orbit around Vulcan for a minimum of fifteen standard days to guard against more of these humanoids entering orbit. You will remain in orbit until contact is made with the humanoids and their intentions made clear. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. The details will be sent to you by the time you reach Starbase 8. Nogura out.”

Kirk sat in the silence that fell on the bridge, stroking his bottom lip thoughtfully. He glanced over at Spock, but the Vulcan had returned to his station and his thoughts were tightly reigned in.

“Sulu, increase speed to warp factor three,” he said. “Let’s get to Vulcan in a timely fashion.”

“Aye, sir, increasing speed to warp factor three.”

Back in his quarters after shift, he dwelled on their new orders.

The mission statement for the five-year mission of the _Enterprise_ was: “To explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life forms and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.” As such, the only regular contact the _Enterprise_ had with Federation members was when they stopped at starbases for refueling and repair after exploring the reaches of Federation space. They rarely traveled to Federation planets unless transporting diplomats or participating in a mid-mission review by Starfleet or taking the First Officer to his home planet to quench his mating urge with a fight to the death.

That experience had been enough to put Kirk off of Vulcan for the rest of his life, initially. The memory of the blazing hot sun and scorching red sand and breathtaking mountainous terrain was tainted by the bone-deep, ice-cold fear that had wracked him because of the then-unfamiliar affliction ailing his close friend. There had been a time during that short ceremony that he had thought one of them would not leave Vulcan alive. It had been a sobering thought, one that had brought about many of the personal revelations that had led them to where they were now.

Still, it _was_ Spock’s home planet and his parents _did_ still live there. If he was planning to bond with Spock, he would have to visit it sometime. Why not now?

“What do you think about this, Spock?” Kirk asked that night over chess in Spock’s quarters. “Does this group of… renegades pose any danger to the Vulcan city?”

“Highly unlikely, Captain. Khal’kilah is one of our largest cities, but it is nonetheless well protected. Alien presence in the city would be detected nearly instantly.”

“Well, that’s something. I know Vulcan has never been attacked in its history, but we have no way of knowing what kind of friends—or enemies—these intruders have.”

“Indeed.”

They fell silent while Kirk took his turn. While he waited for Spock to make his move, Kirk studied his—friend? Companion? Lover? Certainly not bond-mate, not yet—closely. The Vulcan was as poised and unruffled as usual, but there was something niggling at the corner of his mind…

When Spock reached forward to make his move, Kirk captured his hand with his own. His skin tingled pleasantly and he extended his first two fingers to stroke along Spock’s, closing his eyes to savor the sensations the contact evoked. With the link open between them, he could feel a faint echo of Spock’s emotions and he opened his eyes to look into the Vulcan’s dark eyes.

“Meld us,” he said softly, watching the surprise and desire skirt across Spock’s eyes to be replaced by wariness. They rarely did this together; he knew Spock’s reticence came from Vulcan culture, which suggested that the melding of minds was as deeply personal and significant as sex in some human cultures. It was only to be undertaken freely and fully with one’s own bond-mate.

“Jim… I do not think—”

Kirk drew Spock’s hand up to his face, nuzzling into the palm and kissing it. “Please,” he said, looking up at the Vulcan. “I want to feel you, if not physically then mentally at least.”

Spock still hesitated, closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them and fixing Kirk with an intense stare. He was so still that it unnerved Kirk a bit, but he didn’t move his eyes from Spock’s. Whatever turmoil was inside Spock, it was resolved within seconds. He nodded and adjusted his fingers against Kirk’s face. He stroked the meld points lovingly for a moment and Kirk leaned into the caress. Even before Spock started saying the words, Kirk felt their minds reaching out and blending.

“My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts,” Spock murmured. Their minds came together as seamlessly as two rivers converging into one and they gloried in each other’s presence. Thoughts and emotions flowed continuously between them and Kirk savored the closeness they shared.

A repetitive sound from somewhere Outside began to intrude and Kirk pointed it out to Spock. Surprise rippled through them both when they realized that it was a hailing whistle and Spock immediately separated them. Tossed into the silent loneliness of his own mind, Kirk blinked and shook his head, dizzy. He gasped as if winded from a long run, trying to assimilate emotions and reactions that he felt like he had forgotten.

“My apologies, Captain. I did not mean to separate us so forcefully.” Kirk waved his hand and Spock stood to answer the hail. “This is Spock.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Spock, but the captain isn’t answering the ship-wide hail or the comm. unit in his personal quarters. Do you know where he is?”

Kirk stood and immediately swayed, feeling the blood rush to his head as he did so. He blinked and held his head but stumbled over to the comm. unit. “Kirk here. What is it, ensign?”

“Sir, we will reach Starbase 8 within four hours. What are your orders when we arrive?”

Kirk frowned at Spock. _Four hours?_ “The admiral wants us at Vulcan as soon as possible, ensign. Dock us only long enough to refuel and then set course for Vulcan.”

“Understood, sir. We should reach planet Vulcan within twenty-four hours at warp four.”

“Do it. Kirk out.” Kirk thumbed the unit off and stood contemplating, rubbing his bottom lip in thought. “Spock, what time is it? He said that we would arrive at the starbase in only four hours.”

Spock hesitated before replying, which instantly raised red flags in Kirk’s brain. “My timesense tells me that it is 0115, Jim.”

“0115? Spock, are you telling me that we were in a mind meld for almost four hours? It felt like barely fifteen minutes!” Spock straightened and held his hands behind his back.

“I am sorry, sir. As the initiator of the meld, I am responsible…”

Kirk held up his hand. “It’s alright, Spock, nothing happened… this time. But this worries me; you are never anything less than vigilant when you use your mental powers and I’ve never seen you lose track of time. What’s wrong?”

“I am functional, Captain.”

“I’m not just asking as your captain; I’m your friend, too.”

“You will always be my captain, Jim.”

“Spock, you’re avoiding the question.”

“It was a momentary distraction only. It will not happen again. Come, you must sleep for the night; your body is not accustomed to such lengthy mental contact.”

Kirk crossed his arms and frowned. “I’m not satisfied with that answer, Mr. Spock. I’m ordering you to report to Doctor McCoy in the morning before you take your shift on the bridge, is that understood?”

“Understood, Captain.”

Kirk sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. His muscles felt weak and shaky and he had the beginnings of what promised to be a massive headache. A light touch on his arm made him look up into Spock’s eyes.

“Well, it was wonderful while it lasted. Just what I needed.” He leaned up and kissed Spock softly. “You know I love you, right? No matter what.”

“Jim…” Spock looked at him before kissing him briefly. _“You are my light,_ t’hy’la _, and I will forever cherish you.”_ He whispered into their minds. Kirk agreed.

* * *

They arrived in orbit around Vulcan a day later. Kirk was briefed on the situation with little more information than he was already given. Uhura and other xenolinguistic specialists were beamed down to the surface and the  _Enterprise_ was set in geosynchronous orbit around Vulcan on alert. It rankled Kirk a bit, to be sitting around twiddling his thumbs when he had no knowledge of the potential enemy or what he had to watch out for. He contacted Uhura often, but she didn’t have much to tell him since the work was slow and the renegades were wary.

In the meantime, Kirk took advantage of being shackled to a Federation planet and sent down small teams to purchase supplies and instruments they needed. Since they were on alert, he couldn’t authorize shore leave, but he could get things done in as pleasant a manner as he could for his crew.

It was during this time that he began noticing that Spock was becoming distracted. Not enough to be remiss in his duties, certainly, but noticeable to those who knew him well enough. There was the briefest of hesitancies when responding to a comment made to him, and when they were alone Kirk had even had to call his name for attention once or twice. Kirk was concerned and asked about it, but Spock would say nothing on the matter and Kirk had to reluctantly let it drop. Spock’s ordered appointment to sick bay had resulted in nothing but slightly increased—but not out of bounds for a Vulcan—activity of the psi portions of his brain.

He mentioned it briefly to Bones, feeling guilty for betraying Spock’s trust. Bones had promised to keep an eye out but admitted that his hands were tied until he had a solid reason to bring the Vulcan in to his sickbay. He didn’t have to wait long.

They were walking through the corridors after dinner, talking idly about some topic or another, when Spock suddenly fell silent in the middle of a sentence. He slowed and raised a hand to his temple, the other hand reaching out to support himself on the corridor wall. Kirk stepped close and grasped his arm, alarmed.

“Spock? What is it?” He asked urgently. Spock shook his head, as if shaking off a fly, and his eyes were closed tightly.

“Captain… I…”

His knees buckled and he fell against the wall, half-propped up by Kirk jumping in to grab him in a tight hold around his chest. “Spock!”

Red-shirted crewmembers were rushing toward them from the mess hall and Kirk snapped at them to call for McCoy and a med team. Spock was making a low whining sound, batting ineffectually at Kirk’s supportive hands. He didn’t respond to Kirk’s repeated questions. His pulse was much faster than what was normal for him and Kirk suspected that he had a fever as well, though it was difficult to tell with his bare hand.

“Jim!” Bones’ welcome voice sounded just before he dropped to his knees next to him and started running his tricorder over the prone Vulcan. Spock’s hands had migrated to his head and he was paler than Kirk had ever seen him.

“What happened? His readings are all over the place!” Bones demanded.

“He just collapsed while we were walking. There wasn’t any warning.”

“ _Ne m’surrhat, t’hy’la_. _M’surrhat… Kehen ne la’araht, Jim-la?”_ Spock moaned in Vulcan and Kirk paled when he deciphered it. He tried to reach along their bond but was repelled by the absolute chaos in Spock’s mind.

“ _M’hen, Spock-la, m’hen. Ne saavin t’lin cuhrsa, k’tun. Bakla, t’hy’la,”_ he said urgently, not caring who saw him clasp Spock’s hand tightly and bring their fingers together in a Vulcan kiss. Spock seemed to calm immediately. Bones shot him a surprised but shrewd look before he ordered the med team to load Spock onto the stretcher. Spock passed out almost as soon as they touched him.

“What was he saying?” Bones demanded as they rushed through the halls. Kirk shook his head.

“He was asking for me. I told him I was here,” he responded quietly. That wasn’t all he’d said, of course, but Kirk wasn’t about to enclose the extent of his relationship with Spock to Bones here in the middle of the hall. They were separated once they got into sickbay; Bones commanding his nurses like he was the captain of his own fleet battalion and Kirk was gently pushed to the outskirts of the hubbub surrounding his First Officer.

Spock was transferred onto a biobed and the settings were changed to Vulcan-normal. Hypos pressed against his arm and hissed as they injected solutions that had been specially prepared for the Vulcan. Some of the readings that had shot up in the red zones returned to neutral and Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. He sat as still as he could, his body tense with the effort it took not to prowl the edges of the sickbay.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Bones motioned him into his office and dropped down into his seat. Kirk remained standing.

“Well, we’ve got him stable,” Bones said without preamble. “His heart rate and breathing were off the charts, his blood pressure was in the bucket, and he had a slight fever. But no injuries, no trauma or infection. We just treated the symptoms, not the cause. Jim, you’re the closest person to him; do you have any idea—”

“No,” Kirk said, his voice sharp and cold with fear. He had known something was wrong. “Don’t you think I would’ve told you already if I knew what was wrong?”

“Well, what about environmental causes? Has anything changed in his life recently? Is he eating a new food? Touching alien plants? Hell, is he using a new shaving cream? It could be anything with his blasted Vulcan physiology!”

“No, none of that,” Kirk said impatiently. “I mean… I noticed a few things in the last few weeks. He had dizzy spells, bruises, nothing too serious and when I asked him about them he always had an excuse. I should’ve—”

He cut himself off, eyes widening with a dawning realization. Anything changed, Bones had said. The only thing that had changed in Spock’s life was his relationship with Kirk. But did that have anything to do with Spock’s illness? He had no idea, and again cursed Vulcan secrecy. He hadn’t wanted to tell Bones this way, but if it could help Spock… He looked at Bones, bracing himself for the explosion that was sure to follow.

“Well, Jim? Spit it out, man!”

“One thing’s changed in the last few months,” Kirk said hesitantly, looking over his shoulder to make sure the door was closed. “Just before Kohlr… Spock and I… sort of got together. We were going to tell you eventually, but we just wanted some time alone to get used to each other.”

Bones’ mouth dropped open, but he didn’t look as shocked as Kirk had thought he would. “Well, I’ll be damned. I wondered when you two would get around to it.”

Now it was Kirk’s turn to stare. McCoy snorted at his look. “What, d’you think I’m blind? I may be a simple country doctor, but I know what my eyes see. And I’m not the only one; the whole crew has been making rumors about the two of you since your first chess match. When you come out about this, you’re going to make quite a few people rich… or broke.”

Kirk blinked and flushed. “That’s—completely ridiculous!”

But Bones face had gotten serious. “But this opens up new possibilities. I know neither of you have any STDs, but maybe something… Spock was a virgin, right? He wouldn’t know if he reacted badly to lubrication or… contact with your semen.”

“Bones!” Kirk hissed, face burning. “For your information, we haven’t had sex yet. We haven’t done anything except kiss since… Kohlr.”

The doctor immediately looked contrite, if slightly disbelieving. “Sorry, Jim, I should’ve realized… Well, if it’s not something physical, then it most likely something mental. Have you bonded?”

“No, not yet. We have a link that has been in place since his pon farr, so it can’t be that.”

“Damn. I don’t know enough about Vulcans to make any informed judgments. Maybe he can tell us more when he wakes up.”

“And when will that be?”

The doctor shrugged. “Could be any time. If he was human, I’d say not until late tonight, but he’s always been able to shake most sedatives off pretty quickly.”

“And will he still be in the same state?”

“Damnit, Jim, I don’t know. I’m a human doctor, not a Vulcan shaman. Try and relax, would’ya?” As it was, it was nearly an hour later when Kirk felt the first stirrings of Spock’s wakening mind. He straightened in his chair.

“He’s awake,” he said, already standing and moving through the door just as the nurse alerted Bones. The doctor shook his head as he followed.

“That’s going to take some getting used to.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Liked my writing? You might like my Tumblr. rosyourboat.tumblr.com


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